The smell of burning flesh stained the air; burnt hair, skin and cloth flowed through the streets in ash, yet the raging fire continued assaulting, burning the district, and standing in the flames was a single man ordering thousands of soldiers, his armour stained with rust from the countless times he bathed in blood, the plated steel filled with holes from arrows. He screamed out, his voice echoing throughout the crowded streets of burnt bodies, drowning out the screaming of men and women. “Burn them all!!” the man continued, commanding his men as he walked out of the flames. “For they were not made in the eyes of the Holy Father! Spare none! Women or children!” He stood there watching his banner raised in the air. “Slaughter!! Kill! Leave none alive! King Sōl shall not forget this day!” His breathing increased rapidly. “They will not survive! Senex will burn!” His men cry out; their weapons drawn, they run through the streets, striking down anyone and everyone. The survivors ran, running towards the exit, their screams echoing as they trampled over each other, running towards the merchant district, but it was blocked off by a towering bridge connecting the districts.

  “This kingdom of vile filth will burn! Kill them all!” the commander shouted, raising his weapon in the air. Countless men cheered out, rushing at the unarmed civilians, covering them with a liquid, in the crowds where children were crying, grasping onto their mothers and fathers. “Please, no! Mercy-“ A woman screamed, her voice being cut off by the commander’s own. The commander looked at her, grabbing a torch from one of his men. “No.” The commander’s voice dropped. He threw the torch at the people as they burst into flames, their screams echoing throughout the city and other districts. The district was nothing but burnt buildings, yet the smell of iron, charred bodies and decay wafted through the entire city.

  Far on the bridge, a man stood, with cold blue eyes and long flowing brown hair; he collapsed onto the ground, looking down at his people, droplets of water falling to the ground, landing on his hand. “The four...” His hand darted over to his mouth, his body began to shake, and soon he began to gag, his hand digging deep into the bridge, his fingernails breaking as blood dripped down onto the ground. “Why...? Oh, gods.” His hand covered his face. “This war... I...” His breath hitched. “My people... I just wanted unity with the lands of Flumen; I’m supposed to be the ruler of the Domain of Sōl...” his voice echoed...

  “Years passed; fourteen years passed.” A voice spoke, its words mocking, its tall figure rotten and broken, standing in a void of stars and colliding colours, space being ripped apart behind it, as a towering beast slumbers. “And the child of man has been birthed... Perfect, wake up, child, for you have awakened the gift of kings...” The mocking voice faded, echoing in the depths of the mind of a boy.

  A young boy awoke; his hand reached outwards, grasping at the air. “A dream...” Closing his eyes, droplets of tears fall on his hard sheep-fur bed. “It had all been a dream... No.” Forcing himself off his bed, the floorboards creaked under his foot, the sunlight entering through the windows and holes in the roof of his home. “Another day... Why do I even continue?” He walked over to his stored clothes; he picked up one shirt, brown, and pants, light grey. It had stitches where holes once were. Changing clothes, he threw his old clothes near his bed corner on the floor; bugs crawling inside his room scattered as the clothes landed. Walking over to his room window, he looked outside; the smell of cheap booze and the sound of moans echoed in his ears and assaulted his nose. Seeing children playing in dirt, he spat onto the street. “Disgusting...” he muttered to himself. His eyes darted over to an alleyway, where he saw a man and woman intertwine their bodies, moving in erratic movements, leaving little to his imagination. He watched as they did such things in the open with children, men and women passing by. “Shameless. How can people just ignore this?” His hands clenched and unclenched. “This is pathetic.” Pulling away from the window, he made his way to the door.

  Opening the door, he walked out of his room, passing his mother’s room; she was sleeping, her clothes trailing, leading to the bed. She was nude, her olive-brown skin glowing near the body of a man, her hair long, shining a rusted gold from the midday sunlight entering, drawing his eyes to her body, which was shaven down to her womanhood, which had a growing patch of hair, and next to her was a man, his eyes filled with scorn. “Why is she even alive? Such a waste of life.” Walking away, he shook his head. Walking down the stairs, the boards bent under his feet. He walked to the exit, and pushing open the door, the smells assaulted his nose once more: the smell of sex, liquor and perfume. Closing his door, he walked down the dirt and gravel road, his bare feet feeling the rough, sharp gravel, the sun beating against his light brown skin, and his eyes reflecting the sunlight shining an icy blue.

  Walking around the slums, he passed women, both young and old, offering their services to anyone he walked by, yet one of them stopped him, an older woman, almost as old as his mother; he looked at her. “Uh, can I help you?” Turning around, he looked at that woman dressed in thin clothes, her nipples pressed through the dress, her figure slim, having weight in the right places, and her undergarments, which had the same material as her dress, revealing her parts, which Lilium wished he could unsee, which were as dense as a forest, yet he could make out a growing rash. “Well, aren’t you a cute boy, Florin’s kid, eh? Let me tell you.” She looked him up and down, her eyes moving to his crotch, then face. “You’re quite a handsome lad; let me tell you something: I don’t mind allowing you for free, but it’ll depend on how good you are.” She moved closer, her breath hot against his face.

  Lilium looked at her, pulling back. “God, her breath reeks of alcohol and musk–disgusting.” His thoughts echo. “Uh, no thanks, madam, I’m just going to the shopping district. Sorry, maybe next time.” The woman backed away, her hips swaying. “Alright, dear, the offer is still on the table.” She winked at him, walking away; he continued walking, going up stone stairs that soon turned marble, his bare feet tracking dirt onto the pristine marble stairs. Walking up the stairs, he was soon high above ground, soon arriving at Noble’s view.

  The buildings of marble and stone stand on through the eternity of the upper area; giant stone columns and the building, long stretching across blocks, he walked by passing engravings, nobles dressed in silk with stitches of the sun across their chests, their hands entirely covered with golden gauntlets with engravings of roots, and their necks held high by a golden band wrapped around their necks; all of them have it–women, men and children—and they walk with a stiff posture, barely speaking. He walked past them, looking at them; their eyes darted down, looking at him; none of them spoke.

  Noticing this, Lilium walked away, existing through a road which had an extensive building on both ends. He walked through; walking, he eventually came across a large stone bridge, a solid bridge blocking off an entire burnt district from the shopping district. Walking across the rough, crude but stable bridge, the wind blowing heavy, blowing his clothes around his figure, his light brown hair beating across his forehead, he continued walking, eventually meeting the bridge leading down to the shopping district. Walking down the bridge, with each step he took, he was assaulted by the howls of the wind until he met the bottom, where the wind lost its strength.

  He walked around the shopping district, hearing people shouting. “Come get your spices! Four Silver Princeps for a pound! Come get your spices!” He walked past the spice market, the smell of saffron, cloves, curry and peppers high in the air. He looked around the shopping district, walking through the market, passing a bookshop. On the front, there was a book titled “The Conquest of Kaiser the Unifier”. He muttered under his breath; he kept his hands to himself, his eyes darting to the price. “What—a two, two, Golden Regime? That’s like, uh, uh.” He paused, bringing up his fingers. “Ten, twenty, uh, four hundred copper Reginae!” He backed away, keeping his hand far away from the novel. “I can’t afford to damage that.” He pulled away, looking around the shopping district.

  Walking around the shopping district, he looked at different shops, stalls and hunts. He soon spotted a blacksmith, an older man with long grey hair and a lean figure; his face had many small scars and a large gash running down his cheek, hammering away on a red piece of steel. He approached the man, walking into the hut, his mouth dry. “Excuse me, sir, would you be interested in an assistant?” Looking at the large man, the man wore a stoic expression; he dropped his hammer, turning to Lilium, using his clamp to throw the burning steel into a steel bucket containing water. Loud sizzling echoed through the area as steam rose from the bucket.

  Looking at the boy, he picked up a piece of cloth. “What do you want?” The man asked, wiping his forehead with a cloth. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “I would like to be your assistant.” The man looked at Lilium. “To be my assistant? What makes you think I need one?” He rested the cloth, folding his hands. Looking at the blacksmith, he tapped his forehead. “Well, that is true; you don’t need an assistant, but wouldn’t it be better to have someone whom you can pass down your craft to? As I’m certain you don’t have children,” the blacksmith looked him in the eyes before nodding. “Smart; you’ve got quite a mouth on you, too.” His voice kept steady time before his eye darted over to his anvil. “It reminds me of someone I used to know. Quick-witted and a know-it-all, but he was no fool.” The man walked over to a chair, sitting down.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “You know, for someone born into the pits of depravity, you have a surprisingly chic way of carrying yourself.” He looked at Lilium as he paused before speaking once more. “Yes, I shall take you under my guidance, boy. You clearly need it.” He paused, looking at Lilium, his eyes locking with Lilium’s.

  “Let me ask you something. Are you certain you can handle this work? Ah, what am I even saying? Of course you can.” Lilium nodded. “Ah, well, so when can I start? And can I get your name? As I don’t know what to call you.”

  He looked at him. “My name? Animae, my name is Animae.” Lilium extended a hand. “My name is Lilium; it’s a pleasure to learn the trade.” Aniame took his hand. “No need for flattery; you already got the apprenticeship.” He scratched his head. “I was just being polite.” Aniame nodded. “Sure, just stop being so formal and loosen up, would you?” He closed his eyes; his eyes were dull grey, lacking any sort of life. Lilium looked into Aniame’s eyes, a shiver running down his spine. Animae looked at him. “Are you okay, Lilium?” A heavy breath escaped the man’s mouth, and Lilium nodded. “Yes, you just—how do I put this?—have this intense look.” Animae raised his hand, shrugging. “I know; don’t worry about it. And kid, remember, your blood doesn’t define the person you are. Remember that.” He looked at Aniame, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” Animae shook his head. “Nothing, nothing, just parting wisdom for you. I am your teacher now.” Lilium’s lips pressed into a straight line. “So I guess I’m starting tomorrow, great teacher?” Aniame nodded. “Yes, also what is the tone?” The man spoke, his head returning to smiting.

  Walking home, he stopped at the castle, which was blocking off the slums from the eyes of most. The castle was vast, and the walls of the castle were marble stone, with gold that was poured down the columns of the walls. He saw engravings of the sun engraved along the castle walls, showing the royal families and different kingdoms that are aligned with the Domain of Sōl, and around the castle were hundreds of knights around the walls to prevent peasants from trying to peel the gold off.

  Looking up at the king’s castle, Lilium wondered what was inside; he could see all the grandeur, food, and wealth within. He dreamt of living that life. But this is the hand that fate gave him, and he couldn’t do anything about it; that feeling of never achieving greatness, the mere thought of it, filled Lilium with resentment. He clenched his fist, his eyes dropping in disappointment. He wanted to claim the world, but his hands felt so small.

  Walking out, he ended up at the noble’s front; he walked for hours, and it was high noon. The heat of the sun beat against his body as he walked around the area, and a few noblewomen passed by and looked at him. “Isn’t he an adorable little boy?” one said as another replied. “Aw, how adorable; that poor little thing must be starving, coming all the way up here.”

  His beauty captured hearts as one of them handed him a gold coin, to his surprise, as he spoke. “Excuse me, miss? What’s this about? Do you require something?” He asked the random lady, his voice filling with suspicion.

  She chuckled softly and spoke. “No, dear, you’re just adorable.” The woman paused, her eyes darting down at him. “On second thought.” She took out another gold coin from her pouch. “I do.” Her voice dropped to a low hum; he looked at the woman, his heartbeat increasing. “Ah, what is it?” The woman walked closer, grabbing his face. “Here’s the deal: you’re desperate, right? Wanting gold? Kiss me and you’ll get two golden Regum.” He looked at the woman, his eyes darting to the coin; closing his eyes, he nodded. “Yes.” The woman held his hand, putting two of the golden Regum in his hand. She grabbed his face, her lips crashing against his, her tongue invading his mouth, her golden gauntlets rough against his face. His hand slipped over her body, running along her waist, his hand reaching for her pouch, but she grabbed his hand. “No, no, Hun.” She muttered in his ear, biting the tip of his ear, his eyes wide as he felt his body run cold. “I felt that you weren’t so subtle, but I’m not angry but intrigued.” She let go of his hand, tracing his neck with a finger, her golden neck wrap not allowing downward movement. “If you want all this gold, well, meet me at my estate tonight; you have to earn it.” She let go, walking away. Her entourage is leaving with her. “My name is Ecce; I’ll be expecting you.” He looked at her, his hand shaking as he ran off outside the gates of Senex, a smile forming on his face as he clenched something in his hand.

  Lilium ran for some time, ending up in the nearby forest, the main forest used to gather lumber for the construction of ships. He wandered off into the nearby forest near the castle walls. Clenching something in his hand, he opened a pouch. “Honestly, too easy, and kiss and in return.” He looked in the pouch, noticing it was empty apart from a note; a groan escaped his mouth as he threw the pouch in the corner, the money in his hand. “The Four... all that for a piece of paper.” He walked down the path in the woods. Opening it, the more he began to read. “Well, petty thief, if you’re reading this, I’m still expecting you. Do come any night; I’m a patient woman, but do hurry; my loins are burning.” His mouth opens. “What—” he cleared his throat. “How did she switch this so quickly?” Rubbing his temple, he continued walking through the forest, throwing the letter away, feeling around for his two gold Regum. “Okay, where is it?” He began searching around the area, walking deeper into the forest.

  The woods were silent, not even a gust of wind, and in the air there was a flock of birds going from left to right. The trees rattled violently as a presence was felt. Lilium began to gag as a foul, rotten smell filled the air of the forest, different from the musk of the ocean.

  In the distance, there was the Ellana mountain range; the closer he got towards it, the more his head hurt. Lilium saw images of beings, stars collapsing, a fallen star, an impact, something hidden away beyond the mountains of Lilia, and he saw something staring back at him from a void filled with colours. He held his head, kneeling over in pain, his face twisting in agony as he was screaming out. He soon collapsed onto the forest ground. “Child of man, child of four, gaze upon the Beast of Hubris.” A creature walked out, its body a twisted pile of flesh and bones. “Gaze upon the true divine beast.” Walking around the sleeping child, its footsteps are silent, yet it shatters the air. “Awaken, awaken when the first of blood collides...” Walking over to the boy, its thin fingers raised an eyelid. “How perfect, both the blood of the sun and flower—wonderful!!! So wonderful!” Its hands grasp what’s left of its face; clumps of flesh and rot fall to the ground. “The age of stagnation!! Oh, how it dawns upon us!” Its body bent back, its bones cracking and breaking with the sound of wet firewood. “That’s unless the veritable beast achieves its age of eternal repentance. But child of man, don’t worry. When the time is near, all will know, and our age will be born.” Its hands rushed into its own eyes, ripping them out, two blue crystallised balls, both with engravings shining within a hue of mixing colours as a raven and crow flew down, collecting the eyes out of its hands. “When the time comes, when it comes, ah, when it comes.” A low, breathy laugh exited its mouth. “We will advance further than before...” It walked around him. “That mindset — ruthless, unflinching, utterly perfect.” It sank into the ground; a pool of blood formed on the forest floor, rancid and bubbling. “Remember, child of those before: ruthlessness is mercy upon our souls, and being ruthless.” Chuckling, its hand raised to the sky, and soon everything returned: the sound of animals, the rustling of trees, but left on the floor was a deep red stain, red, its form akin to an effigy on the floor. “That makes you and me even more of a sprawling fool’s effigy.”

  Hours later, he awakened; he was home, and over him stood his mother weeping as she spoke, her voice sombre and filled with panic. “Lilium!! Why?! Why would you go so far out into the woods!?” Florins questioned, demanding an answer, her voice rising as tears were streaming down her face, yet she didn’t look him in the eyes. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been searching for hours. “Mother... Ah.” He groaned out, holding his head. “M-my head hurts so much,” he cried out, holding his head as he rolled over and clutching his head.

  Florins’s panic surged once more. The thoughts of losing her son ran through her head as she grasped his hands; she wanted to jump, hug him, and never let go... But Lilium won’t even allow her to touch him, let alone hug him. Lilium twisted and turned on the bed, his eyes filling with tears. He felt like his mind was slipping, and then he just slowly stopped moving. Florin’s eyes widen in pure shock as she just quickly turns him over to see if he’s breathing. Her chest swelled with relief upon hearing his heartbeat. She gently kissed his forehead, slowly backing out of the room to make as little noise as possible.

  Lilium twitched and turned as memories and faces flashed within his mind, names long forgotten and kingdoms and civilisations long collapsed. He saw it — a golden tower built upon the jagged peak of Terran, a tower to gaze upon the stars. Standing there, he physically felt himself standing there in the present, past and ruins of the ancient tower before being violently ripped away as pain crept over his body, as if he inherited the pain of countless long passed. His breathing rapidly quickened, sweat drenched the fur bed, and soon he went still; his breathing slowed as he was in a state of lucid dreams.